


Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not after you

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Luke Evans and Alex Skarsgard [152]
Category: Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 11:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14104848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not after you

[backdated to early 2014; takes place 10 days after [Luke confronts Alex about his paranoid suspicions](http://citadel-luke.dreamwidth.org/4250.html) about remaking _The Crow_ ]

Charlotte chews at her lower lip, staring at her phone and the number she's supposed to call. Just do it, she tells herself, but she's terrified of the response at the other end. It's not like Luke's even hurt that badly. But they've all seen Alex on set, watching over him - and them - like a hawk, and it figures this would happen on the one fucking day he wasn't there. Damnit. She whimpers, ignoring the look she gets from the security guy, and presses dial.

Alex doesn't recognize the number on his cell display, so he answers the phone with a non-specific, "Yeah?"

"Hi, Alex?" Charlotte winces. Maybe she should've said Mr. Skarsgard. "This is Charlotte, Peter's P.A? I'm calling from Lenox Hill. Luke's okay but he's had an accident--"

"What?" Alex sits bolt upright, his eyes flaring wide. "What the fuck is Lenox Hill?"

Charlotte just blanks for a moment. Terrified. "Um. It's a hospital. Near Central Park. It's supposed to have the best ER," she rushes to assure him.

 

" _What the fuck is wrong with him?_ " Alex grabs his wallet and keys and bolts from their rented flat, slamming into the emergency stairwell and taking the steps two and three at a time because there's no fucking way he's got the patience to wait for the elevator.

"I don't know," Charlotte says, fretting and pacing and cursing Peter for making her handle this call. "I think it's just a concussion. He got hit by a piece of lighting equipment and it knocked him out but he's fine now. He's talking to Peter and the ER doc."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Alex snarls, and walks right into the flow of traffic, stepping in front of a taxi to by-god _force_ the driver to stop. He ignores the driver's curses and shouted inquiry as to the state of his sanity and slides into the back seat, slamming the door behind him. "Lenox Hill. ER. I'll pay you double if you get me there fast," he orders, then returns his attention to the unfortunate Charlotte. "How long was he knocked out for? Is he bleeding? Does he know where he is?"

"I don't know," Charlotte says again. "A few minutes. I wasn't actually there when it happened," she admits. "But he's talking to Peter and the doctor. Just. I'm sorry. I don't know anything. Peter told me to call you."

Alex relents a little, because he knows she's just the easy target available at this moment, no bigger player than that. "Okay. You tell Peter to make sure they don't give me any fucking static when I walk in there. None of their 'no visitors' bullshit or whatever. Tell him to make sure they're ready to take me straight back to Luke."

"I will," Charlotte promises. "I'll meet you by the triage desk and I'll let security know you're coming."

"Good." Alex hangs up the phone and shoves it into his pocket. Ordinarily he would've managed a "thanks" at the very least, but this... this is not ordinary. This is _Luke_. His husband. His heart. "Are we almost there?"

"Yeah okay, five minutes maybe," the driver says in heavily-accented English, waving a hand vaguely at the road ahead. Alex rolls his eyes but forces himself to sit back. And wait.

It feels like a fucking eternity, but it really is only six minutes or so when the cab pulls up in front of the Emergency Department, right into the lane clearly marked "Ambulance Only." Alex tosses a fifty into the front seat and is getting out of the taxi before it's even at a full stop. Striding into the ER he quickly scans the room, looking for some random girl who appears to be looking for him.

Charlotte waves at Alex, heading forward to make sure security doesn't detain him. "Hi Alex. I'm Charlotte." Although they've met before, she can tell he doesn't remember her, and who would with someone as gorgeous as Luke Evans as your husband. "Luke's this way," she says, nodding at security to let them through the inner doors. "Third door on the right," she says, pointing him in the right direction. "Second curtain."

Alex shoves the curtain aside and finds three people standing around the ER gurney in a very small alcove. He ignores all of them, instantly maneuvering to stand next to Luke. He grabs his husband's hand and stares at Luke's face, anxiously searching. Frowning at the large white bandage covering the hairline over Luke's left temple, the flecks of dried blood still scattered on his skin. "What happened?"

"It was stupid," Luke says, squeezing Alex's hand, so grateful to have him here despite his words. "A huge gust of wind came along, blew over one of those big lighting stands. I just happened to be right under it," he says, trying for a smile he doesn't really feel.

"It cut you," Alex says in an accusing tone, glaring at the gauze taped to Luke's forehead. "You bled. She said something about a concussion."

"Apparently Mr. Evans was rendered unconscious for a few minutes," the doctor says, stepping forward and introducing himself as Dr. Davis. "But he's been given a full neurological exam which he passed with flying colours and he'll be taken for a CT scan and MRI shortly. Regardless of what those show, I'd like to keep him in overnight for observation and monitoring."

Alex stares at the doctor's face like he's trying to place his existence in the grand infinite cosmos. Then he just blinks and turns his head to glare at the director, Peter. "The rig _fell_ on him?" he asks, his tone dangerously edged. "Do your insurers know about this yet?"

"It was an accident," Luke says firmly, giving Alex's fingers a harder squeeze. "A freak fucking accident." He blows out a breath. "I really don't feel well and I don't want to stay here. Can't I just go home and have Alex wake me?" It's not the first time he's had a concussion, although he's never been knocked out before.

"No, you're staying," Alex insists, overriding Dr. Davis even as he tells Luke the same thing. "You have to get your brain scanned or whatever, and your MRI-something, and then you have to stay here so they can observe you." He doesn't give a shit if he's irritating the doc or the director or... Hell, at this point he wouldn't even apologize to his husband for exasperating _him_. There is no fucking way Alex is going to let Luke leave this hospital until he's completely cured.

Great. But at least if the husband has to be an asshole, he's on Dr. Davis's side. "They're going to take Mr. Evans to Radiology now for his CT. You can't go with him," he says firmly, "but you can wait here and he'll be back and then we'll get him a room."

"You're staying, right?" Luke asks, clinging to Alex's hand.

Alex's protest is immediate -- and pissed. "I can't go with him?"

"No, you can't," Dr. Davis says. "Hospital policy. _But_ I can make sure you have a cot in Luke's room and you can stay overnight with him, which we don't usually allow, if you sit down and wait here while he's in Radiology."

Alex adds a raised eyebrow to his glare, but he's got to admit - if only to himself - that the man's got balls. "Fine," he bites out, and then leans down to kiss his husband and whisper, "I'll be waiting right here when you get back."

"Okay." Luke nods and wraps an arm around Alex's neck, pulling him in even closer for a long moment, the pain making him feel strangely vulnerable, his only anchor his husband. "I love you."

"I love you," Alex whispers back. "I'll see you soon."

* * *

"Soon" turns out to be an entirely meaningless concept. By the time an ER tech is sent to fetch him up to Luke's new room, Alex is so jittery he feels like he could start chewing holes in the privacy curtain. "Is he okay? Did it work?" he demands anxiously of the petite Latina employee as he follows her.

"Oh, I don't know," she insists, giving him a shrug and a smile. "They just told me to come get you."

"But don't you know _anything_?" he insists, and her friendly demeanor dissolves in an instant.

"They _just told me to come get you_ ," she repeats, wondering if it's some kind of law that all celebrities have to be assholes.

Alex gives up and leaves her alone, but he can't keep his foot from tapping nervously while they take the elevator up to the sixth floor. The second she points to the right door he leaves her in a cloud of dust, ducking around a nurse to the other side of the bed and grabbing Luke's hand. "What happened? What did they say?"

"I don't know," Luke says, but he pulls Alex even closer. "They didn't tell me anything. They just said the doctor would be in later."

"Okay." Alex looks around and drags a chair right up to the bedside so that he can huddle in. "Are you hurt? I mean, are you in pain right now?" he asks in a low voice, his eyes filled with concern.

Luke nods, tearing up. "My head really hurts," he admits. "My whole head. Not just where I was hit. And I want to sleep but I hate hospitals," he complains, well aware he's whining but it feels like he's earned it.

Alex's gaze instantly snaps to the other people in the room; Peter - _useless_ \- Charlotte - _useless_ \- some random hospital employee and... yet another nurse? "Can you give him something for the pain? He's in pain," he tells the woman who is currently trying to prop up Luke's pillows just right.

"I can give him some Tylenol," she answers with a helpful smile, but Alex just stares at her like she has lost her fucking mind.

"Tylenol," he echoes numbly, his tone flat. Then, " _Tylenol?_ For this?"

She nods. "My name is Audra, by the way. I'll be Mr. Evans's nurse tonight," she says, and pushes a long strand of blonde hair out of her eyes. "Until the doctor gets the CT and MRI results and gives us the okay, we can't give him any other pain medication. Because if there's bleeding then we don't want to make it worse."

_Unfuckingbelieveable_ , Alex thinks, but somehow manages to control his tongue, aware that he needs to keep his shit together for Luke's sake. With effort, he asks quietly, "Can he at least have an ice pack or something?"

She nods. "Probably. I'll go work on that."

"She's going to go work on that," Alex mutters under his breath, watching her leave the room. Then he shakes himself and brings Luke's hand to his lips, promising, "We'll get you feeling better, _älskling_. It'll be okay."

Luke nods and closes his eyes, taking comfort in Alex's presence, his closeness. "Can we get everyone else to leave?" he whispers. He knows they can probably still hear him but he just doesn't care right now. Can't bring himself to give a shit what they think.

"But I--" Alex stares at his lover, surprised, then turns to Peter. "Can you all give him some quiet so he can rest, please?"

There's a bit of grumbling, mostly from Peter, but finally everyone leaves, shuffling from the room and Luke opens his eyes again. "Lie down with me?" he says, shifting over to the far side of the bed and gesturing for Alex to join him.

"Yeah." Alex sheds his jacket and leaves it on the chair, then carefully gets into bed with his husband. It's a very tight squeeze for two men their size, but there's no way in hell he's not going to give Luke everything he asks for in this moment... He'll try to do so, anyway. Reaching up, he pulls the string to switch off the bright light overhead, then shuts his eyes and cuddles up as close as he can manage. "Everything is going to be okay." Damn it, he'll say that until it comes true.

Luke wraps an arm around Alex and presses in close, the ache in his head almost too much to bear. But with it is exhaustion, bone-deep, and he closes his eyes, trusting Alex to take care of him.

Alex curls his arm protectively across his husband's chest and lifts his other hand to stroke through Luke's hair. They rest quietly in the darkness for he doesn't know how long -- all he knows is that for him, it's not restful in the least. He spends the time fretting _of course_ , and then fretting more that he might upset Luke by not keeping his cool. Eventually, though, the doctor does come in to give them a report, Luke's nurse by his side. Alex tries to wake his lover with a gentle nudge and a murmur.

Luke snuffles a bit and reluctantly opens his eyes, pushing himself up against the pillows a little. "I hope you're going to tell me you can give me something for my head now," he says, not caring how petulant he might sound. He feels like he's been hit by a Mack truck -- and really, he sort of has.

"Yes, your nurse will take care of it. I'm Dr. Van Horn and I'll be taking over your care from this point," says the young man in a long white lab coat. His curious gaze flicks to include Alex, but then returns his attention to Luke. "There were no signs of intracranial bleeding on your MRI or your CT scan, and you don't have a skull fracture. So, we're going to keep you overnight for observation just like they told you in the ER, and your nurse will be checking on you frequently. If everything continues well, we should be able to release you tomorrow." As the doctor speaks, the nurse Audra is already bustling around getting medication ready, holding a small vial of medicine up and filling a large needle from it.

"When tomorrow?" Luke asks. "I have an early call."

Alex frowns, moved to protest, but the doc actually gets the first word in. "No," he says firmly, one eyebrow raised. "No work tomorrow. You need to stay home and rest for two full days."

...Which Alex decides works just fine for him. "I'll take care of you," he tells his husband softly, "and you'll rest up and feel better."

"But Peter, and the film... I can't miss two days," Luke protests. "Tomorrow maybe but not two." God.

" _Two_ ," Alex insists, then nods at the doctor in a signal to jump in any time.

"You have a severe concussion, Luke," Dr. Van Horn says, his tone of voice kind but very definite. "It's lucky that there's no sign of hemorrhage, and you shouldn't have any permanent damage. But your recovery is a key piece. And I mean _total_ rest," he adds, pausing for the few moments necessary for Audra to scan Luke's ID band and then attach her syringe to his IV and begin slowing pushing in pain medication. "That means lots of sleep, no reading, no jumping around or running -- nothing that could possibly strain your brain or worsen your concussion."

Shit. Luke looks at Alex. "I need my phone. I need to call Peter."

Alex nods and checks the bedside table at his elbow, then hands over Luke's cell. He could disentangle himself and attempt to climb out of the tiny hospital bed without falling right over the guardrail; but hell, this right here is one of the reasons he came out: he's here to comfort his lover and he doesn't give a shit what it looks like to anyone else.

Luke stares at his phone for a minute, rubbing his thumb over the screen. He can't seem to put two thoughts together and he doesn't think he can handle trying to talk to anyone but Alex. "Can you call him for me?" he asks his husband.

"Yeah, of course." Taking the phone back, Alex enters the passcode 5413 - it's the identical password for his own phone, their wedding date - then seeks Peter's number. He listens to it ring, then starts talking as soon as the man answers. "Yeah, I'm not Luke, this is Alex, but his doctor is here with his test results. He says Luke needs to take two days of complete rest."

It feels good to know Alex is taking care of things, to lay his head against his husband's chest and just listen to the conversation going on above him.

Alex listens to Peter, and it sounds like the guy is starting to lose his shit already. "I don't know," he says, all matter-of-fact, then looks to Dr. Van Horn. "Luke's director wants to know what 'complete rest' means."

"Just what it sounds like," the doc answers, and Alex relays that message back. "And then--"

"Hold on, you're both talking," Alex tells Peter, and looks at the doctor again. "Sorry, what?"

Dr. Van Horn repeats calmly, "And then he needs to be on two weeks of modified rest. That means no sports, limited reading, no stunts... Basically nothing that really taxes his brain or his eyes or his body."

Alex raises an eyebrow. "Two weeks?" he asks, just to be sure he heard right, because holy _shit_. The doctor nods in response, and Peter overheard enough of the orders that he's getting panicky and loud. Alex pulls the phone away from his ear before he goes deaf, and the whole room gets to listen in.

Luke frowns. "Two weeks isn't realistic," he says, lifting his head a little. "You know that." This to Alex. "Tell him I need the two days and the weekend and I'll be back on Monday."

Dr. Van Horn manages to keep from rolling his eyes -- but only barely. This is New York City. He works with actors and directors all the time, and considers himself grateful that at the moment he doesn't have to deal with a couple of producers as well. "May I?" he says to Alex, and holds out his hand.

A little surprised, Alex quirks an eyebrow but gives him the phone without comment, then listens for a second as the doc introduces himself and starts getting into it with Peter about the importance of sufficient recovery time. Not Alex's problem anymore -- awesome. He strokes Luke's cheek, gently pushing him down to relax again, and gives his full attention to his husband. "I'm going to fight you on this, _älskling_ ," he whispers. "You scared the hell out of me tonight. If the doctor says you need to rest in order to get totally healed, then you're going to fucking rest."

"Yes, sir," Luke whispers back. Between Alex and the doctor, there's no way he's not giving in. Especially when this isn't like Alex's random paranoia about this shoot. He really could have been hurt and hurt badly. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Alex whispers, and brushes a kiss over Luke's hair.

Dr. Van Horn holds the phone out to Luke. "He'd like to speak with you now."

Like fuck Peter will get to speak to Luke at this moment. "I got it," Alex says, taking the phone and putting it to his own ear. "Peter, it's Alex," he says, figuring the dude's probably pretty pissed off at this point. "No, Luke finally got some pain meds and he's falling asleep. You can talk to me." _Whether you like it or not._ "Uh-huh. Yep. One week?" he asks, and looks to the doc for confirmation.

"Total rest for two days. Then the weekend. And then next week at work, only light duty. Modified rest," the doctor says with a nod. "Eleven days minimum before he tries any contact sports or stunts or anything." Ordinarily he'd address his patient directly. But Luke appears to be passing out, and his husband appears to have assumed control of the situation.

Alex nods in acknowledgment, figuring it's as close to two weeks as they're likely to get. "Yeah," he tells Peter. "Eleven days minimum. Surely you can juggle some shit around."

Luke fades in and out and the next time he's in, the doctor is gone and all's quiet, his husband's heart beating under his ear. "What'd Peter say?" he mumbles.

"Hmm?" Against his expectations, Alex finds that he actually has been drowsing. He blinks to look around the room in the low light, and shifts his position slightly, working within the confines of the narrow bed to try and get them both more comfortable. "Um. Peter took his orders straight from the doc. Full rest for you for two days. And then, um, what they call modified rest for another week after that. So, you'll be able to do some work, but no stunts or anything very physical."

Luke swallows, his throat dry, his eyes so heavy it's just easier to close them again. "Thank you," he whispers, pressing a kiss to Alex's chest.

"Sure, _älskling_ ," Alex answers, although he's not quite certain why Luke thanked him. "Oh hey, don't fall asleep just yet." He reaches to press the "call" button, ringing Luke's nurse. "Someone's going to come check on you."

It isn't more than a minute before Audra pops into the room with a smile. She stands at Luke's bedside and gently lays the back of her hand against his cheek, checking to see that he's not clammy. "All right if I blind you with my penlight?"

"I thought I was supposed to be resting," Luke grumbles, clearly unhappy with the whole process.

"Yep," she agrees easily, because 'arguing with patients' is simply never on her to-do list. "If you could just look at me, please," she asks, and flicks the tiny flashlight so that she can check both of his pupils. "Good," she announces. "How is your pain right now, Mr. Evans?"

"It's not as bad as it was," Luke says with a frown, pressing even closer against Alex's side. "I can sleep."

"Great." She gives him a sunny smile. "Get back to that, then, and I'll check on you later." She gives Alex a smile and a nod as well, then slips away as quietly as she appeared.

Alex presses a kiss to Luke's forehead. "Are you really feeling better than before? I mean, not _all_ better, I know. But... a bit?"

Luke nods, smiling a little at the kiss. God. He's so glad Alex is here. "I felt like I was going to be sick before, it hurt so much. Now it's just there. Like someone, well, something hit me really hard. It's like this solid block of hurt but duller. If that makes sense?"

"Yeah, I think so. What about your neck? Is your neck okay?" Alex asks, beginning a slow gentle massage of Luke's nape. Hoping that he can lull his husband back into sleep somehow.

"I don't know. It hurts but I think it's okay," Luke says, closing his eyes again and making soft sounds of pleasure as Alex touches him.

"All right. Tell me if you want me to stop," Alex whispers, and wraps his other arm around Luke, keeping him close. Warm and safe.  



End file.
